


Finding Harmony

by Sins_of_the_Scruff



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Musical Instruments, Song/Voice, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underswap Papyrus/Underfell Papyrus - Freeform, papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sins_of_the_Scruff/pseuds/Sins_of_the_Scruff
Summary: This is a short story based on Hawifi's SongSwap!Papyrus, Riff, meeting my interpretation of SongFell!Papyrus, Fiero, and how their relationship starts off pretty rocky and then shifts as they try to find a certain harmony between each other.****Please be courteous, I don't write all that much anymore.****
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Finding Harmony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hawifi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawifi/gifts).



> To those who are musicians, please be kind, I'm sure in what I have written there are errors all over the place, but I haven't touched an instrument in a decade, so I'm more than a little rusty.

_ “C’mon, Riff, we’re going to be late!” _

Lyric stood at the door, tapping his foot in a specific cadence that expressed his irritation. There were sounds of things crashing about, before a door upstairs came open and Riff staggered out, trying to rid his foot of the rubber chicken which was still wheezing out its dying squawk. He slid down the banister in true Riff fashion and landed in front of his brother with ease, snapping his fingers and pointing to him with a smirk. Lyric rolled his eye lights as he fixed the star shaped glasses on his head and checked that his bandanna was straight.

Riff gave an eye roll of his own when his brother wasn’t looking as he adjusted his beanie and opened the door, allowing Lyric to skip and dance his way out. The auditorium wasn’t too far from their home and even though there was a slight chill in the air, it wouldn’t stop the two of them making their way to the show in time. Lyric walked along and conducted with his hands only a song he could hear in his head. Riff walked alongside and watched, only slightly correcting his brother’s hand positions when needed. 

Lyric was training to become one of his Majesties’ Royal Conductors, a rare feat for a citizen to attain. 

_ “Like this, Riff?”  _ He stopped for a moment and closed his eyes, raising his hands bringing his right down a few times, giving a few preparatory beats. A slurry of magic began to emanate from his hands as he began to conduct a concert of his own making. His mouth opened as he sang the melody he was concocting in his head. Riff merely watched and smiled, his brother really did have the makings of a great composer in him, he just hoped the training wouldn’t dog him down. 

Riff knew fully well of the training and tests that lie ahead of his brother. Only a few years ago, he was himself a Royal Conductor, conducting one of the Queen’s very best orchestras. His natural talent to conduct and decipher any music sheet set before him was unheard of and any who challenged his position was met with defeat each and every time. It didn’t mean he was callous about it. Each defeated party was shown what they could do to improve and Riff made sure that they were given a chance to receive extra teaching should they desire it.

After a certain period of time, it started to become boring. The same music came day in and day out, with little to no change. Riff was interested in finding new ways of producing music, for one their magic and soul depended on it, but also he felt that there was more to what they were given. To be an instrumentalist meant that you were lower in magic, but Riff didn’t discriminate. If you could sing an entire opera in perfect tempo and key had the same merit as one who played the orchestra movements without a single off key note or missed measure. 

He absentmindedly reached up to his neck and rubbed at the long scar that traveled across several vertebrae. He supposed that the accident that took away most, if not all, of his voice was a blessing in disguise. His HP and magic now stunted due to not being able to make music through song, meant he had no choice but to turn to other means. Lyric slowly finished his piece and was met with Riff snapping his fingers in applause and praise. Lyric’s eye lights briefly turned to small treble clefs before swiftly hugging him. 

_ “When I become one of the Queen’s Royal Conductors, I’ll be the very best! You’ll see, Riff! We’ll be in a better place soon, now come on! We’re going to miss the concert if we continue to slack!” _

Riff snapped his fingers in varying lengths and waited for his brother to translate it all. Lyric frowned, “your puns are even less fun to translate then they were to hear them, brother.”  Riff’s shoulders were shaking, there was the soft crackle of breaths that signaled he was laughing, but snapped another flurry of words and then started walking again. The snaps continued and Lyric groaned as he caught up with him and they made their way to the concert venue.

~~~

The Auditorium was a rather large building in the middle of town. It could host several concerts at the same time if need be and was used as the town’s meeting place for a number of occasions. Tonight though, only one concert was being held. A pair of musicians were being showcased from a neighboring city, New Fell. The posters outside the building depicted two skeletons. A tall, dark skeleton with intimidating sharp features and red eyes posed with a dark cello while the shorter one with equally sharp features plus one shining gold fang sat on a stool beside him, holding a bass that seemed so much larger than himself. They were Fiero and Grave, the SongFell brothers. Brothers who were highly respected by their musical talents and some say, their infamous tempers. 

Riff studied Fiero’s face on the poster before sticking his tongue out at it. He looked like the same uppity folks he had to deal with when he was conducting at one of the Royal’s grand parties and the stringed instruments hardly looked like they belonged in their clawed hands. Still, this was something his brother wanted to see, and it was an excuse to get out of the house and not to Muff’s Karaoke bar. He paid for fairly good seats, close to the center of the stage and then strolled in, waving or snapping to other people that said hello to them. 

Once seated, he read through the little booklet that was given out at the door. Apparently only Fiero was playing tonight as a soloist. It listed his accolades, his awards, his praises, blah blah blah. Riff scoffed at the awards and praise. They seemed to come from high status, so many of those awards could be based on their notoriety and not their talent. Your very soul had to be entwined with the music, it had to be its own dual conductor, tracing the beat of melodies as well as the beat of their own lifeline, especially when one wasn’t using their voice to create the song. This would prove to be an interesting concert indeed.

The lights began to dim, signalling that the performance was to begin. All was silent, there was no introduction, just the lifting of the curtain to reveal the lone skeleton on the stage with his cello. He was dressed smartly in a black outfit, all prim, proper, and pressed. It had smatterings of red if the light hit it just right, but all in all, it was very clean. His cello was polished, although not completely new, you could see the age and wear on it, but it was maintained well. His head was bowed, not taking a single glance at the audience and for a few moments, all was deathly quiet. He raised his head, Riff nearly gasping at the large scar that ran across the monster’s right socket and positioned his instrument. 

His bow rose to hover over the strings and his fingering hand slid up the neck to the starting note. It was then that Riff, and several other close up audience members realized that Fiero was missing fingers on his hand as several more gasps raced across the seating area. They had no time to wonder how he would play as with a strong, precise stroke, the music began and it truly was beautiful music, but what Riff was immediately keen on was the way Fiero played his instrument. His movements were fluid, but precise, each note having a certain pitch, a certain resonance that called his soul forth in an invisible dance. It seemed to not matter that he had missing fingers as each note was reached and played with care. The music was beautiful, its notes telling some somber story that seemed to haunt the audience and keep them spellbound.

Fiero never once opened his sockets as he played, seemingly in a trance as his body followed the movements of the bow, bending and swaying with the notes. Riff had to admit he was indeed a very talented musician, capable of captivating the audience with ease especially with his disability. As the first song came to an end and the next began, Riff felt as if he was drifting off to some dreamland, as if Fiero rose from the very chair and took his cello with him, dancing along as he played. For a moment, Riff envisioned him in the place of the cello, being guided along by Fiero in this fantasy promenade. 

He shook his head and felt his cheekbones warm, surely he wasn’t getting a bit hot over some uppity musician? He glanced over at his brother who had his eye sockets closed as he listened. Several other audience members were doing the same. The music drew to a close and as he turned his attention back to the stage, he found himself being stared at by the eyes of Fiero himself. His sockets went wide as Fiero smirked and immediately began another piece, this one being vastly different than the others.

This one was fiery and chaotic, nearly sending his soul into a fright. The movements were swift and brash, showing off his ease of being able to handle complex rhythms. At times, his bow completely left the instrument and his few fingers replaced it as they strummed and plucked like a makeshift guitar. The music seemed to be getting faster and faster as Riff found himself pressed back into his chair, feeling his soul beat hurriedly to keep with the pace. Fiero’s fingers that were creating the notes moved at such a speed, it seemed like he was able to finger three notes at once with only a single digit. 

This music called to Riff, he hadn’t heard such music being played in the Auditorium before and it entranced him. The very thought that music not produced by voice could have such a hold on an audience was amazing. He could see the beads of sweat that dotted Fiero’s skull as the music came to crescendo after crescendo and when the final note swept across, he sagged momentarily to catch his breath. Riff was on his feet in an instant, clapping and snapping in earnest. Never in his life did he want to be able to yell and express his pleasure vocally. Soon, the audience joined him and stood, clapping and giving praise. Fiero rose from his chair and bowed several times to the audience as the curtain began to fall. For a moment, one could see the smaller brother come to retrieve the instrument before all was cut off. 

Riff turned to Lyric in excitement and snapped a medley of words. Surely they could meet Fiero backstage and he could show his appreciation in person! Lyric was shocked at his brother’s reaction to the musician. He hadn’t seen his brother’s eye lights this bright in quite awhile. He nodded in enthusiasm and they made their way to the back of the theatre and off to the side door. The doorman looked at Lyric and then up at Riff before recognizing him and nodding before opening the door to let them in. Riff may not have been a Royal Conductor anymore, but he still could pull some strings here and there.

Riff took off and navigated the twisting and turning passageways, ignoring his brother’s calls to wait up as he made his way to the dressing rooms. He could see a group of monsters already hovering around Fiero. He had removed his dress jacket and was signing some posters and the like for his fans. Riff raced up and stood to the side, waiting for the group to die down a bit. Just as the last fan turned away and Fiero was going to turn back to his dressing room, Riff pounced and tapped him on the shoulder.

The next few moments were in an instant, Fiero turned and caught Riff’s wrist, his eye lights flashing brightly, his face contorted in anger.  **_“Do_ ** **_NOT_ ** **_touch me.”_ **

Riff winced at the grip, but nodded. He probably should’ve done something else to get his attention, so yeah he deserved this. Fiero released his grip and Riff momentarily checked that he could still move his hand. Fiero stood there, likely awaiting an apology to which Riff began snapping his fingers. Fiero’s brow bones rose in confusion, then lowered as he snapped, **_“would you get your nasty fingers out of my face?! What is wrong with you?”_ **

Riff stopped and looked around not seeing his brother. Hmm, he forgot that not many besides Lyric could translate his snaps and he thought for a moment. An idea came to mind and he paused, holding his hands up in a placating matter before he held his index finger. He closed his hand into a fist and held it against his chest and rotated it clockwise several times. After a good 4-5 times, he stopped as Fiero didn’t seem to be getting the picture. 

_ “‘E says he’s sorry, bro, several times in fact. I told ya those hand signin’ and Morse Code classes weren’t a waste of time.” _

From the shadows came Grave. He had a cigar in his mouth, the cherry burning bright in the low light and the smoke giving off a sweetened smell. He gave a small wave to Riff and turned back to his brother and signed along while speaking to him.  _ “now, from what i got just by watchin’ is that his name is riff and that he was very entertained by your performance. did I get that right, sweet cheeks?” _

Riff didn’t like the pet name, but as long as he had a translator, then fine. He resumed the snaps, something he was more comfortable with and could do a bit slower. He advised that he was indeed impressed with his skill, especially with a disability and that the music was quite beautiful. Grave nodded and turned back to Fiero and continued to translate and sign,  _ “he said ya got talented hands, despite having a bird’s hand for one of them and that the music wasn’t the worst thing he’d heard this side of a funeral parlor.”  _

Riff’s eyes went wide with shock, he said nothing of the sort! He shook his head and waved his hands in a frantic manner as Fiero looked equally shocked earning a hard chuckle from Grave. _ “nah, just pullin’ both yer bones, he was impressed with yer skill and that the music was composed fantastically, something he’d never heard before.” _

Riff nodded, a tight smile gracing his face. The last thing he needed was to accidentally insult a visiting musician. Fiero regained his composure, but replied tersely, **_“Thank you for your continued supply of jokes, Grave, and thank him for his compliment. Not that he’d really know what makes for a sophisticated composed song, but the compliment is appreciated. Now, is there something he actually needed or is going to continue to waste my time with these shenanigans?”_ **

The smile on Grave’s face tightened as he took another drag of his cigar. He could see Riff was terribly insulted at his brother’s remark. He wasn’t going to bother trying to save this though, his brother dug his own holes, he might as well watch as the dirt dropped right back on him. Riff was flabbergasted at Fiero’s dismissal of him. Did he think he couldn’t hear what he was saying?! Riff’s snapping turned harsh, expressing his outrage. Grave almost found this funny in a way. Certainly, after all was said and done, the outcome wouldn’t be in their favor, but this wouldn’t be the worst that had happened to them.

Fiero, growing tired of the constant snapping whipped around and shoved a signed poster in Riff’s face,  **_“If you don’t mind, I am down with whatever foolishness this is and turning in for the night. Grave, please show our...guest to the door.”_ ** Riff was nearly nuclear orange in color, the slight freckles on his cheekbones emblazoned with color. Fiero said no more and shut his dressing room door leaving a pissed off signing skeleton flipping him the bird several times, much to Grave’s delight.

_ “Eh, don’t mind him, Papyrus, he’ll learn his lesson by the end of the night. Ya mind if I call you Papyrus? Seems much more respectable to call the former Royal Conductor by his actual name.” _ Riff didn’t answer for a moment, still giving off middle digits and mouthing several, but creative foul words at the closed door. Grave let him, smoking his cigar before Riff sagged back, the signed poster not much more than crumpled paper at this point. Riff turned to Grave and snapped a few words.

_ “an ass? yeah, that’s pretty close to what I’d describe him, too. well, c’mon, sweet stuff, let’s get ya back outside. I’m not much into refereeing any more of my bro’s spats.” _

Riff was more than happy to leave. Fiero was a fucking asshol! If he ever came back to perform, Lyric would have to find someone else to…...Fuck, he didn’t even know where Lyric was right now. In his haste to see Fiero, he basically left Lyric to try and navigate the fun house that was the backstage area and forgot about him. He and Grave walked the twisted and narrow passageways until they could hear Lyric’s singing. Lyric was with the doorman and was giving a small performance of his own.

_ “RIFF! THERE YOU ARE! You can’t just run off like that! Where have-oh, what’s that in your hand?” _

Riff looked down and realized he was still clutching the crumpled poster. He turned to say something to Grave, but he was no longer there. He peered into the darkness of the crooks and crannies of the backstage before he shook his head and gave Lyric the poster followed by a few snaps. Lyric looked at his brother and the crumpled poster with concern then towards where the dressing rooms were.  _ “Well, did you get to meet Fiero? Was he just as popular as they say in the magazines, hey where are you going?!”  _

Riff was already heading out the door into the cold, with Lyric quickly following suit. Riff didn’t feel like talking about it. He was pretty done with Fiero, music, and the whole experience for the night.

~~~~

Fiero hissed as his hands hit the warmed and soapy water in his dressing room. After each and every performance, he soaked his hands in a mixture of water and herbs to soothe them. His head was throbbing with a migraine, typical after nights like these, but exacerbated by those damned snaps that denizen made. The door never opened, but he could tell when his brother was near. 

**_“Is your particular glare supposed to mean something to me, tonight?”_ **

Grave merely shrugged and pulled another cigar from his pocket, tearing the end off with his teeth and lighting up.  _ “It always means somethin’, bro. Now, i want ya ta explain ta me what happened just now with the quiet fella.” _ Fiero rolled his eye lights, **_“I cannot believe they allow someone disabled like him to run around freely to bother people!”_ **

Grave puffed a cloud of smoke in his direction,  _ “fancy that, the pot’s calling the kettle black.” _

Fiero didn’t even bother to retort and continued to soak his hands.  _ “Remember what I told ya on the train ride over here? Did ya even bother ta listen ta me? Did ya even read those fuckin’ pamphlets I got ya?” _

Fiero thought back to the train ride, Grave had mentioned there would be the possibility of the high status meeting with them while they were here for the concert, and he had indeed seen a few familiar faces. Now, did he read all of them? God, no! There was a stack nearly 3 inches in width and by the fourth ‘about me’, he thought he would lose his mind to boredom. Grave didn’t wait for him to come up with an answer.

_ “Fuckin’ no ya didn’t, because yer fuckin’ stubborn and don’t listen ta a word I hafta say. Do ya even know who you were just talkin’ to, ya idiot?! Ya literally just insulted the former Royal Conductor, Papyrus!” _

Grave’s eye lights flashed in anger, his sharpened teeth nearly severing the cigar in two in his mouth. Fiero went stock still as he took in the appearance of the skeleton he had talked to. He didn’t look anything like his picture on the pamphlet. The Papyrus on the cover was dressed in clothes fit for a king! He didn’t wear some ratty hoodie with ripped jeans and a fading beanie! Fiero glared back at his brother.

**_“You lie.”_ **

Grave began to laugh, _“all the fuckin’ time, but this time i don’t hafta lie, when the truth is so much funnier! That was the former Royal Conductor, Papyrus, and while you were busy shuttin’ his ass down gripin’ ‘bout shenanigans and the sort, he could HEAR you the entire time! Papyrus isn’t deaf, he’s just mute cuz ya know, ya read his biography of course!”_

Fiero thought a little more, he did start to look a bit familiar now that he was thinking clearly. The thick scar on his neck stood out to him then, but he didn't know why. Now, though, now he knew.

Grave began pacing the room, _ “Suppose he takes more offense than what he already has tonight, huh? What happens when he decides ta say somethin’ ta the Queen? Not gonna look good on the Great Fiero, now is it, brother? You’ll be lucky if you’re ever welcomed back ta a stage ‘round here.” _

Fiero had gone quiet, the implications of what he had just done to himself, and more importantly to Riff became crystal clear. Fuck, just how badly did he screw this up? He and his brother couldn’t go back to living on the streets, that would be a death sentence in his city. He stared at himself in the mirror,  **_“What do I do about it, brother?”_ **

Grave walked over and grabbed his jaw and turned it towards him,  _ “What yer gonna do is find him tomorrow and apologize and clean your mess up. I better not hear anymore complaints, Fiero, I mean it. I love ya, but we’ve worked too hard to throw it all away”. _

Fiero wrenched free from his grip and pulled his hands from the bowl, the water had gone cool and his joints were starting to stiffen. He wiped his hands and stalked away to his small bedroom. 

He had a lot of thinking to do.

**Author's Note:**

> The two songs I had in mind for Fiero to be playing are below, please have a listen to these two wonderfully talented men!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7RJRsEAKDNs
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0_gw2Lillg
> 
> Fiero is sort of a spoiled child in a way, but he really does want to make sure he and his brother are taken care of. His social skills just suck balls. If you like, please leave a comment or kudos! :)


End file.
